


Chasing Cars

by Panda365



Series: Tumblr Requests [15]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Competitive Natasha Romanov, Dating, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Lazy Mornings, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 00:13:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30013113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panda365/pseuds/Panda365
Summary: A lazy morning and a game night between Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff.*Fluff. No plot.**Tumblr Request*
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov
Series: Tumblr Requests [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181882
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Natasha has a hand under her cheek, pillow imprinting on her skin. The blanket is tangled up in her limbs and her hair a bit tossed. She's being held from behind, Bruce's frame pressed up close to hers with a gentle hand brushing her shoulder.

Her eyes close in response to a squeeze and soft kisses on the side of her neck.

Natasha feels their bed start to move, his body on its way up so she grabs his arm and hugs it into her chest to prevent their day from starting.

Bruce laughs softly, brushing a hand through her hair, "You don't want me to leave?"

Natasha takes a breath, repositioning herself and answers pointedly, "No."

He hums, nuzzling into her. He hugs her tightly, "Okay. I can stay about five more minutes."

"Ten."

"Seven."

With a soft protesting groan, Natasha swings back up against him and hugs her pillow closer, "Eight."

Bruce intends to stay for the requested eight- she frequently gets what she wants. He momentarily takes his arm back to lift the blue patterned blanket up over her shoulder and keep her warm.

She rotates her head and glares behind her. His eyes narrow, "What?"

She reaches her hand around to grab his, releasing a heavy closed mouthed sigh and hugs him back into place;

"Stop fidgeting and hold me."

He kisses her cheek and complies. She's hiding, burrowing into her pillow. He pauses a moment to analyze her movement, her every twitch without getting in her face about it. Her heart is pounding- pulse racing, she's shivering despite a blanket over her shoulder. Bruce questions softly, "Are you okay?"

Natasha brushes a finger underneath her eye, visible emotionless despite an inner chaos. She nods- _it's a lie_.

She's had some horrific a nightmare and he knows better than to ask her to share it. Natasha values her privacy and needs to leave the past behind her. His arm hugs her tightly, spending a minute in the silence.

Those cold metal tables are replaced by his warmth. Those restraints are replaced with a safe and loving hold. Any manipulative whispers are swapped out for kisses and a kind whisper he's brave enough to eventually attempt;

"I'm here, you're not alone."

She finally blinks, a shiver crawling up her spine. She hugs his hand a little tighter, in no rush to leave her safe space.

Natasha takes a breath, gradually calming her heartbeat. It's a slow process as she tries to ground herself in the current reality. Refocus on the softness of the blanket, the comfort of her pillow. The scent of her expired autumn candle over the table and the subtle glares of the sunrise poking through the white blinds.

Natasha strokes a thumb over Bruce's fingers. She takes an inhale and holds it for a few seconds, exhaling slowly.

No one can touch her. Not with her lover behind her. Not in his arms. She's stronger now. She can handle herself.

When she realizes she's lost track of time, she clears her throat and turns to peak over her shoulder, "Don't you have to go?"

"No. Work can wait."

She forces a grin, still brushing his fingers, "I'm fine, Bruce. It’s me. I’ll get over it.”

"It's okay. I'll stay with you. A late start isn't the end of the world." He’ll give her a lecture on self care later. Return to her ‘get over it’ comment. For now it’s irrelevant.

Natasha rolls onto her back, over to her opposite to cuddle sleepily against his chest. She's too tired to move, eyelids drooping. He kisses her forehead and ensures she's comfortable. Her eyes finally close with her arm wrapped tightly around his torso.


	2. L.O.V.E.R

The clock hits eleven o'clock and they're too invested in their game to call it a night. The floor is comfortable enough with their thrown pillows and half empty wine glasses. 

Who knew the master spy cared so much about Scrabble points?

Bruce is laughing, showing her the paper and proof of his calculations. She disagrees and playfully tugs the page from his grasp to evaluate it for herself.

"You're really screwing me over Doc."

He laughs, "I'm _really_ not."

Natasha rolls her eyes and tallies up their numbers. Upon completion she shoves the page back into his chest and chugs the rest of her wine, beginning to clear the board;

"We're going again."

"Seriously?!"

"Seriously! Double or nothing."

His tongue presses against his molars, shaking his head and helping her clear the board, "My brain is fried."

"Good."

"Why? You need me to complete toast to win, is that it?”

”Ha! You give yourself too much credit.”

”You really don't handle losing very well."

"Did you just figure that out?"

He shrugs, "No. I figured it out last month when you flipped the table over rummy."

"Okay! Hold on, I won rummy. Your memory is screwed up."

"...You're right. That was poker."

"Mm. No. I won that too."

He laughs, "Boggle?!"

"Your age is showing."

"You. Did not. Just. Say that."

"I did. What are you going to do about it," she hugs her knees. She enjoys riling him up, unsure of why he's suddenly far more quiet, "What's wrong?"

He shrugs solemnly, forcing a laugh behind a strict expression and his glasses, "Nothing."

"You didn't jab me back. Something’s wrong.”

He shakes his head, biting his lip and tugging at his fingers, "It's your move."

Natasha contorts her mouth and shifts closer to him, abandoning her tray full of letters. She nudges him gently and offers a grin, "Hey. You're really going to make me guess? I said something...just tell me.”

"I'm uh, still pulling the knife out. Give me a minute," he laughs, eyes low.

Her eyes never leave him, analyzing every nervous twitch he makes, "That bothered you; why."

Bruce strokes at his cheek and clears his throat, "I'm not blind. Just a little far sighted. So when I look at you- I mean; while you, continue to look like that,' he gestures in her direction, 'I'm pulling out gray hairs every morning until I eventually go bald."

She doesn't laugh when he does, a redundant action he's taking to dodge and avoid, "I think you should stop picking on yourself."

"Why.”

"Because that’s my job,’ Natasha reaches a hand up and through his curls, ‘I picked you. I like you just the way you are. I don’t see what you see. You’re perfect to me.”

She's not one for verbalizing her emotions, typically stoic and to the point. He smiles a bit- genuinely this time;

"...yeah?"

"Yeah," She takes his hand, intertwines their fingers and lays her head on his shoulder.

His head lays over hers, breathing in tune to her heartbeat. He has to double check- "Promise? Are you sure you still want me?"

She smiles, eyes closing as she hugs his arm, "Yeah, I'm sure."

It’s about as emotional as she’ll get- he takes it. Inhaling with a gesture toward the board, "It's your turn."

Natasha sits up and rotates her tray a bit to check her letters. She latches her fingers onto his, content to hold his hand while she takes her turn with the other. 

P.E.R.F.E.C.T is too appropriate.   
  
He shakes his head. She rolls her eyes and pecks his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!!!


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